Dissonant
by TheQueenOfNightmares
Summary: Sollux and Gamzee are in a secret relationship born of understanding. Of course, they are the only ones who really understand. Multiple pairings, both homo and hetero. Humanstuck. Rated M for a reason! (lemon, cussing, violence, etc.) First fanfic, so please be gentle!
1. Volatile Lover

It would never last.

But it was never meant to.

They weren't in love; it was never about that. It was about understanding, and the undeniable connection between them.

The sex was usually unapologetically violent. Sollux was happy to throw the clown about and hit him when the mood struck, and Gamzee had a tendency to leave his friend covered in blood. It made the secret hard to keep, but they dealt. The euphoria of clashing together, the emotional release that came with the sexual one, was all they had to soothe themselves with when the voices grew and the urges took over.

Tonight it was Sollux who initiated it, as it was the first time. A pounding sound compelled Gamzee to leave his room and drift to the door, joint still hanging from the corner of his mouth. When he opened it, he was greeted with a fist, sent directly into his stomach, so thin that it would be concave if not for the muscles. The jay dropped from his lips, tapping softly as it hit the wooden floor, as Gam stumbled back, reaction slightly delayed. Sollux ground it beneath his black sneaker as he stepped inside, shutting the door and backing the taller man up against a wall. Gamzee grinned, rubbing his tummy, "Hey Sol. What did you up and motherfucking hit me for?"

The beekeeper bared his teeth in return, grabbing a fistful of Gamzee's wild, dark hair and yanking so that he could look into his eyes. "You already know." Sol growled quietly before closing the short distance between their lips. The druggie attempted to remember if this was manic or depressive, but his fogged brain had never fully grasped the concepts. He couldn't even understand his own malfunction, how could he possibly comprehend that of someone else? He didn't worry about it too much though, because he knew that they were alike. That was all that mattered.

Sollux brought him back out of his head by pulling his hair so hard that he was forced to break their kiss. Gamzee opened his eyes to find Sollux staring at him with a funny look in his eyes. His mood had already swung and he sunk down to his knees, whispering, "I'm thorry Gamthee."

The Capricorn patted his head, making soothing noises. For a few moments, the bipolar boy was still and silent. Then he knocked his companion's hand away, rolling up Gam's faded purple shirt to confront the bruise beneath it. It was just beneath the clown's ribcage on the left side. Guilt flashed in his dichromatic eyes before he closed them, leaning in, and kissing the mark. Gamzee giggled at first, amused, but he quickly grew uncomfortable as the kisses kept coming, not used to affectionate displays from the hacker. He coughed to let him know that he should stop. The kneeling man glared up at him. "Fuck you."

"Isn't that what you motherfucking came here for?"

"Oh that'th it!" Sollux stood and grabbed Gamzee, shoving him into the back of the couch. The ever-graceful Capricorn landed face first, smearing his grease paint across a cushion, his long legs dangling off the back. The Gemini leaned over him, wrapping his arms around him and digging his nails into the bruise, causing the druggie to wince and clench his jaw. The bee lover only grinned, pulling away just to slam his elbow into his friend's spine. Gamzee could not hold back the grunt of pain as his back arched under the force. Desire grew in lisping boy's abdomen. He pressed himself against Gamzee, dragging his forked tongue down his spine, making the tall boy shiver. Then he stepped away. The clown stood and turned to face him, asking "What the motherfuck did you all and stop for, bro? That felt g—"

Sollux cut him off with a kiss, growling softly and grinding into him. The wild-haired boy wrapped his arms around the computer whiz, opening his mouth with his strong tongue to slide it lazily through the split in his partner's. The Gemini groaned and pressed harder, clacking their teeth together, asserting dominance. Gamzee bit his tongue defiantly and was pushed down. The clown only smiled up at his abuser, earning himself a kick in the shoulder. The beekeeper removed his shirt, smirking at the way the rich boy watched him out of both fear and desire.

Gamzee would never admit it, but Sollux knew that the pain turned him on, the little masochist. He saw the way his pants grew tight when he beat on him. Even when he was sober and sadistic, he wanted to feel the pain. It was a part of who he was, and no part of him was ever truly gone.

Sollux removed his belt, undid his pants, and sat on the couch, waiting. The addict came over and kneeled before him, leaning in and kissing down his chest, making him chuckle softly as he closed his eyes. Long, slender fingers slid into his waistband, the unkempt nails scratching him softly, making him shiver as his pants and boxers were slid down. He felt the warm wetness of Gamzee's mouth as the Capricorn dipped his head down and wrapped his lips around the head. He felt the gentle scraping of those sharp teeth as Gamzee took him in, all the way. He didn't even gag on it as it slid into his throat like he did in the beginning. Sollux smiled his approval as the wild-haired young man bobbed his head and sucked, his long tongue caressing in a strange and wonderful dance.

It wasn't long before Sollux growled and pulled Gamzee back by his hair, flipping him around and bending him over the glass coffee table. He wanted more. He wanted to see the rich bitch artist crying and moaning and arching, thrusting on him desperately. He yanked those god-awful polka dot pajama pants down off of his skinny clown ass, kicking his legs apart and kneeling between them. He pushed himself inside, making the tall boy groan and whimper. He thrusted slowly until he found a good rhythm then sped up, unconcerned for the Capricorn's comfort. Soon he was ramming into him forcefully, wildly, making him go crazy. The druggie was moving against him, arching and panting until he grabbed his hips and held them still, making the grown man whine. The bee lover chuckled low in his throat as he pounded into him.

The table cracked, but Sollux took no notice. Gamzee tried to say something, but he could only moan the shorter man's name, over and over. Nothing else would come out. It only urged the Gemini on, and the table shattered. The Capricorn caught himself, but his arms gave out after only a few seconds. Sollux readjusted himself, but then kept going. This wasn't the first time they ever broke something. It wouldn't be the last. After Sollux came, Gam fell on his side in the shards: arms, face, neck, chest, and now side and left leg covered in nicks and cuts. The hacker leaned back against the couch, panting, eyes closed.

After a few minutes, he opened them and smiled at Gamzee, pulling his limp form up out of the glass and into his arms. He was still hard. The gemini rested his head in the crook of his friend's neck, wrapping his fingers around his bulge. He bit and sucked on his shoulder gently as he brought him to climax, leaving a dark hickey, complete with teeth marks. The clown papped him and shooshed softly, "You feelin' better, bro?"

"Yeth."


	2. A Good Morning

Tavros awoke to a soft, slightly wet kiss on the cheek that made him giggle. He reached out for his boyfriend, squinting against the sunlight as it streamed through the glass ceiling, blindingly bright, eliminating the need for any electrical lighting. He liked to opt for natural alternatives whenever possible. It helped to spark his imagination, to send him off on fun adventures that he would never really be able to experience.

Gamzee picked him up and carried him to his wheelchair, accustomed to the morning routine by now. He had known the paraplegic for years, since before the accident._ Attack is more like it_, a voice commented. Sometimes he couldn't help but think about that day, even after all this time. As the Taurus rolled himself to the bathroom, Gamzee pulled the pre-packed bowl out of his jacket and lit up, curling his lanky frame into the window seat and watching the clouds, smoking the sad thoughts away.

Tavros smiled as he wheeled back into his bedroom, stopping to observe the other man for a few moments. It was comical how he had managed to twist himself into the little space. He was always doing little things like that, things that made the dreamer smile. Something about the Capricorn made the whole world feel like a carnival, and Tav was sure that had less to do with the face paint and more to do with the man behind it.

Gamzee turned his head and caught him staring, making the cripple blush. He chuckled softly, voice raspy from the smoke, and unfolded himself from the bay window, strutting over to his beloved and placing a kiss on his forehead, brushing away the hair that dangled over his face to do so. The artist had always adored Tav's Mohawk. It was soft and just a few shades darker than honey. He was amazed how the very punk rock doo only managed to make him look cuter, not tougher: never tougher.

The rich boy straightened himself and left the room, off to find something to eat. Tavros went to the dresser, digging out a fresh tee shirt and loose jean shorts, slowly going through the process of getting dressed. Even after doing this so many times it wasn't easy. It forced him to recognize that he was, in fact, disabled. He would never be able to do things the same as other people. He was less; two legs less.

He noticed the pipe, which had been abandoned on the bookshelf. Gamzee had been a stoner for as long as the Taurus could remember. He pushed himself over and picked it up, studying it. He thought of grabbing the lighter and taking a hit, an impulse that he had resisted on several occasions. It's not that he really wanted to, but sometimes he just wanted to know what it felt like to fly.

He sniffed at the substance inside of it, recognizing the sickly sweet smell that had become infused with his lover's skin. At first he had been repulsed by it, but he hardly thought anything of it now. He pressed his lips to it, as he had seen it done so many times, tasting his boyfriend's familiar saliva on the cool glass. He closed his eyes and inhaled slowly, holding his breath once his lungs were full, pretending. He was always pretending.

"Lighter's there if you want it, bro." The low, slightly rough voice startled him and the pipe tumbled from his hand into his lap. He blushed and put it back where he had found it, shaking his head. Gamzee knew just as well as he did that he wasn't going to, but he always offered. Next he offered breakfast, in the form of fruit salad. He was already half through a bowl of his own, heaped with whipped topping. The clown had a preference for junk food, the sweeter the better. Tavros rolled himself up next to the bed where Gam had seated himself and ate quickly, needing to get through his morning work out before heading off to the animal shelter where he spent his Saturdays.

For such an effeminate man, the Taurus was well built. He supposed that her plan had worked in the end; it just wasn't the way in which she had expected. Then again, that wasn't really unforeseen. Everything _always_ worked out for her. He rebelled against the thought, pressing his lips hard against his darling's. _No_, he reminded himself, smiling at the Capricorn, _not always._


	3. Breaking

Time passed most uneventfully. He couldn't be exactly sure how much time—he tended to lose track if he didn't go out regularly. He got lost in the haze of kush smoke and the fumes of paint. Once upon a time someone would have come looking for him after a few days, but Tavros hated the city and he had few other friends, most of whom wouldn't dare venture into the den of the Beast.

He told time by paintings. He had finished 15 by now, signifying that it had most likely been weeks since anyone had last seen him. He was probably running low on supplies. He had noticed that he was nearly out paint. Some colors simply he used up, others dried as he forgot to cap them. At some point he began using his face paint, but that could have been hours or days ago.

Food was also starting to be an issue. It had lasted longer than expected, as Gamzee periodically lapsed into sobriety and went days without eating. He wasn't too concerned with remaining high as long as no one was around and nothing happened to trigger him. Besides, his art was better when he was sober. At times like this, he only smoked when he had to in order to remain in control.

At the moment he was sober, standing before his easel, using his fingers instead of a brush. He liked the feel of the dried paint beneath his long nails and how intimate, how much more real, it felt to paint this way. He stepped back and glared softly at the swirling surreal picture before him, feeling a vague sense of pleasure at the confusion clearly depicted, but it wasn't enough. He wiped his fingers on his black shirt, staining it further with bright colors, then dipped his hand into bright red and dragged them across the image at a diagonal.

The clown bit his lip, flashing back. The last time he had really seen this color, it had been dripping down that boys face. _You mean Karkat, don't you?_ The voice whispered in the back of his mind. He could hear the smile, could see it when he closed his eyes. He growled softly at it and gripped the side of his head as pain shot through his brain. The voice only screamed louder: _KARKAT!_

He chucked the paint pot across the room, eyes going wide as it shattered and splattered cherry all across his wall. After a few moments of staring, he slowly approached, almost entranced. It hardly looked real. His sharp teeth pierced his lower lip as he reached out hesitantly towards the dripping stain, terrified to touch it, unsure if he wanted it to be tangible or not. In a burst of courage he pressed his palm firmly into the paint.

_GAMZEE! PLEASE NO!_

The Capricorn roared and recoiled, holding his head. The Cancer's voice was echoing endlessly in his skull. He yanked at his hair in attempt to make it stop, screaming to cover it when he failed. He made a move for the stairs, desperate to reach his stash, but he slipped. He squeezed his eyes shut as he slammed heavily to the floor. He curled up and yelled himself hoarse, trembling with trepidation.

When he opened his eyes once more, they were hard and dark.


End file.
